


I want all of your lies

by smile_it_will_get_better



Series: Umbrella Academy Oneshots [5]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Au where someone actually helps Vanya because she needs it, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus is more powerful than anyone thought, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, because I said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: Klaus didn’t even want to go into how fucking shitty his life had been in the recent times....What if Klaus was more powerful than any of them thought? What if Reginald didn't put Klaus into the mausoleum to get over his fears but instead to let them grow? What if one of them actually helped Vanya instead of being jerks and leaving her there?





	I want all of your lies

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to stop writing but at this point I'm afraid of what idea's I'll come up with if I stop. So here we have some more fricking Klaus angst because I'm trash

When Klaus was ten years old his dad told him they were going on a special trip, just the two of them. 

At the time he was young and naïve, only a year into realizing what the figures hovering on the edge of his vision meant. 

He was young enough that he often went crying to his father, telling him how the ghosts were loud and wouldn’t shut up. How they kept on calling his name and he couldn’t sleep because he was too scared to close his eyes. 

His father, of course, simply told him to go back to bed. That he would get used to it, that the ghosts would get easier to manipulate and would fade into background noise. Told him that he was being a wimp, a little kid, that he needed to grow up and get over this fear sooner or later. 

It broke his heart, and Klaus soon learned not to go to his father's’ room when he was scared or in distressed, instead he learned how to keep it inside or to find one of his siblings to fill the space where the ghosts liked to stand. 

He didn’t understand why his dad wouldn’t help him, why he always turned him away, why he was always so disappointed in him. Klaus just wanted his father to give him a small smile, to pat his back or give him a single kind word. 

So when his father told them they were going on a trip Klaus dreamed up of the possibilities. Maybe they were going out to the ocean, maybe they were going to get some ice cream, or maybe just out for a drive. Klaus would be overjoyed with all of them. 

He felt like this was his time. The time where his father would see him and accept him and be proud of him like he was proud of Luther. 

When they pulled up to the cemetery Klaus felt that hope morph into fear. 

He could see the corpses crowded the place, wandering around and screaming, so many voices over lapping each other as they screamed and begged to a god that never showed them any mercy. 

He screamed. He cried. He kicked and tried his best to escape, but his father held him tightly, throwing him into a small building and the door closed and suddenly he was left in the dark. 

The walls pressed onto him, closing in as the dark grew faces, the dead surrounding him, crying out for help, screaming his name. He begged and cried and screamed for his father to help him. 

His dad never came back. 

He curled up into a ball, his hands pressed into his ears and his eyes screwed up as he tried to ignore the dead people around him, pressing in on him. 

His father claimed it was to help him get over his fear of the dead, but the fear only grew, developing until he couldn’t sleep, breath, or exists without his mind getting overshadowed by it. It took over his life, swallowing him whole as he lived on. 

The visits only increased as he got older, and Klaus didn’t know what to do about it. 

All he knew was that he never complained to his father again. Never showed up without his father sending for him, and slowly the fear ate him inside out. Until he was nothing more than a shell of a boy, always screaming and listening to screams echoing around him. 

_______________________________

Reginald had ambitious dreams. 

Dreams of saving the world, of preventing the end to all of mankind as they knew it. 

The only way to do it was build a team of extraordinary kids, to train as a team to make sure that whatever ended the world in this timeline would be stopped. 

He tried to get around ten of them, start a school or something similar. Instead, he only managed to convince seven parents to give up their unwilling children. He had no plans to raise them, quickly trying to get rid of their stupid urge to call him ‘father’ and see him as anything more than a mentor and guardian. 

He was tasked with the job of saving the world, of bringing together these young kids together and training them in their uncontrollable powers. It wasn’t going to be easy, the training, the research, making sure they managed to do their part in the grand scheme of things. 

He started books for each kid, recording their powers and how they progressed. 

Number One was easily his favourite. He was willing to follow orders, showing complete obedience even at a young age. He seemed to have an attachment to Number Three, but it was nothing that he had to particularly pay attention to. Number One showed immense strength, able to life up to over 500 pounds by the age of ten, nearing the 1,000 at the age of fifteen. Nothing too special, nothing that could really grow into anything other than what it was. 

Number Three, well she was a bit of an issue. Her powers of persuasion could be incredibly powerful. With a few simple words she can make men murder each other, quite possibly alter the fabric of reality. But instead of being power hungry, she seemed to only crave attention. Using her powers to gain attention which she soaks in like a sponge, gaining her siblings attention and approval easily. She was a selfish child, too wrapped up ins herself to follow most rules or pay attention to training. She is a fairly good fighter though, useful on missions. 

Number Two is, for a lack of better words, an insolent brat. Even at the young age of fifteen. At the beginning he was quite like Number One, followed orders and was willing to listen to his every word. But then he grew tired of being Number Two, but he just isn’t fit for leading. His gift for throwing things is quite impressive, and Reginald suspected an element of telekinesis entwined somewhere inside. 

Number Five went missing years ago. No big loss. He was useful on missions, but his knack for rebelling and his narcissistic behaviour often led to breaks inside the team. Reginald didn’t miss him that much. 

Number Six was one of his biggest wild cards. Reginald wasn’t exactly what the boy had inside of him, but the horror that he could control made even himself gag sometimes. The tentacles were hard to control, and he detested them, but he was also soft, easily manipulated and molded into the perfect meek soldier. 

The two biggest wildcards of them all though, Number Seven and Number Four. 

Number Seven had began to show evidence of a power at a young age, using sounds to create bursts of pure energy. She had killed three different nannies before Reginald had to create a different solution to the issue. But Number Seven’s powers were too hard to control, they were purely chaotic in nature, using her emotions in order to run rampage. 

Her powers would simply be dangerous on their own, but due to the murderous element to it, it was just too much for him to handle. If she got even slightly emotional her powers would lash out, harming whoever was closest to her. So he decided to put an end to it. He ordered a bunch of emotion suppressing pills and got Number Three rumor her into believing she was normal. 

There was no other option. She could possibly bring an end to this world. That was always a concern with these children, that instead of preventing the end of the world they would bring it. Number Seven had to be contained, had to be manipulated into compliance in order to avoid a mishap. 

Number Four was an entirely different story. 

At first, his powers seemed harmless. Seeing ghosts was hardly useful in any way, but it was the other, more unexplainable things that made him wary. 

When he was first developing his powers, he came to Reginald often, complaining about fears and voices that would keep him up. Little concern to him. 

It wasn’t until Number Four was ten years old that the first red flag was raised. He was monitoring the kids’ room, watching for any specific powers when he noticed Number Four start to toss and turn. Reginald watched, believing it was just a simple nightmare. But then there was an odd blue glow to the room, and Number Four went still. 

Reginald watched carefully as suddenly every single object in the room, even the bed and bookshelves, were suddenly flouting a good foot off the ground. Figures started to flicker in and out of his vision, shifting between the otherworldly blue glow to what appeared to be literal solid people, the faint sounds of voices and screams filtering through the speakers. 

Then with one last shutter everything fell, the figures faded from sight, and Number Four was still. 

Reginald decided it was too late to try and hide his abilities from him and the others like he did with Number Seven. There was no way to simply make the ghosts disappear, and the other numbers already knew of his skillset. But Reginald had seen an entirely knew well of power inside the boy, a type of power that Reginald wanted to keep hidden. 

So instead of hiding his powers, trying to suppress them or pretend they weren’t there, Reginald went with a more direct option. If he could terrify Four into never tapping into that power, it was possible that they would never develop enough to pose any threat to Reginald or the rest of the world. 

So he took the boy to a private mausoleum. One where he knew victims from gruesome murders were held. He locked him there for days, listening as the boy screamed and begged and tried his best to escape. 

When Four came out he was too terrified to do anything even relating to his powers. After the third outing to the cemetery, Reginald started to sense a peculiar emptiness to Four’s eyes. An emptiness that the boy started to fill with alcohol, then drugs. 

He tried not to show how overjoyed he was at that turn of event. It turns out that the substance abuse muted his powers even more, hiding them under layers and layers of self destruction and drugs. There was no chance of them to develop, for Number Four to start to sympathize with the dead. With him to start to discover power that no child, no man, no person should hold. 

Sure, Reginald wasn’t the best at his job. But he was the only one doing it, the only one willing to sacrifice it all for the sake of the world. The only one to put up with seven overactive super children, the six moody teenagers, and finally five messed up adults with an inability to function properly. 

They left, one by one, until only Number One was left. That was part of the plan of course, they needed time to grow part, to develop their powers outside of his firm hand. 

Then the time came, the date ticking down towards the catastrophe that would end the world as they knew it. 

He needed his group back together, working as a team towards something. So he conspired with Pogo and the robot, plotting out the perfect murder. And that night he lay in bed, reminding himself of everything he had done, why he had done it, and what he had to hope for. Everything was in place, and now the last puzzle piece had finally fell into place. 

And as his life drained out of him with every last pump of his failing heart and every last raspy breath of his malfunctioning lungs, he knew this had to work. 

He hadn’t gone through all of this for it all to fall apart now. 

 

____________________

 

Klaus didn’t even want to go into how fucking shitty his life had been in the recent times. 

He went form an innocent junkie simply chasing his next high to being tortured and then going into the Vietnam war. 

He didn’t like to think of Vietnam, because if he did his head would pound and his heart would ache and the urge to cry would return and smother him once again. So he pushed that fun trip to the back of his mind, pretended he wasn’t haunted by the ghosts of what could have been. 

And now, well he was forced to save the world. Save a world that didn’t bloody deserve to be saved. 

Then Allison almost died and Klaus felt the fear and grief bubble up inside of himself because why did this stupid world decide that it wanted to take away everything he had? First his sobriety, then Dave, now his siblings?

And somehow, they managed to all end up in some secret place under the building with Vanya in a _god damn cage_ and Luther saying that this was the right thing to do. 

But this felt wrong. It felt worse than wrong. It felt like there had always been a line they never crossed with Vanya. A line of cruelty that they were always toeing, but now? Now Luther had literally torn that line in half with his stupidly big ape hands and was crashing past it with no remorse. 

Well Klaus wasn’t willing to do that. Anyone who had half a brain wouldn’t stand this. Because Vanya was in there, screaming with tears running down her face and desperation in every line of her body. 

“I know this is difficult to accept,” Luther was saying, his voice hard and unforgiving and it made something inside Klaus twist. 

“It’s not difficult to accept!” He snapped. “It’s impossible to accept!” he threw up his hands and turned towards Luther, and Klaus felt something deep inside him stir with the anger, the frustration and disbelief. This wasn’t right. There was no way this was right. 

“Let her out asshole!” Ben shouted at Luther, despite knowing he wouldn’t be heard.

Diego was jumping to his side, and Klaus was glad he wasn’t the only one here that wasn’t a heartless monster. 

“What more proof do we need!” Luther was saying, and you know what, Klaus got it. He understood that Luther was upset and angry and ready to throw the blame onto anyone who was there and Vanya was the easiest target. It was easy to channel that anger and fear and project it into locking up a supposed threat. But there was no justifying this. 

“Why don’t we open to door and ask her?” Klaus said, walking forwards to open the door but Luther grabbed his arm, pulling him back forcefully. Klaus was reminded of the way Luther had shoved him up against the pillar just earlier, anger and pain lashing out towards Klaus. He stepped away, pushing down the urge to scream and shout and riot. 

“She needs our help,” Diego was arguing. “And we can’t do that if she’s locked in a cage.” 

Klaus turned again, remembering the way Ben had recently slapped him, punching the pills out of his mouth. He felt the feeling in his chest, the pressure building up the longer this went on. He was sober and feeling so much more than he ever had, and he was scared. Scared for what he might be able to do, scared for Vanya, for what she might be able to do. 

“Yeah, and for all we know she might be struggling with this new power.” He continued, trying to sound calm and convincing when all he wanted to do was sock Luther and open that door. “I mean it must be scary, terrifying really to discover that you can do something that you never thought you could do.” 

Luther ignored him, and Klaus was vaguely aware that Allison was entering the room. But he wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy looking at Vanya, who was still screaming silent, begging for someone to let her out. She looked like she couldn’t breath, panic filling her eyes.

And then he was lost. 

_“Somebody help me please!” He begged, slamming his hands against the walls. “Daddy please don’t leave me here!”_

_No one came, there was no sounds outside of the mausoleum, nothing but the echoes of his screams and the dead silence inside of it._

_It was so dark, so dark he couldn’t see his hands in front of his face, couldn’t see anything including the too close walls around him. The darkness seemed to morph around him, shadows and shaped forming where they shouldn’t be._

_“Help.” He said weakly, scratching at the door._

_“Klaus.” A voice called out from behind him, sounding like nails grinding down a chalkboard. He ignored it, squeezing his eyes shut._

_“Klaus, help us.” Another voice joined in, desperation seeping into the noise._

_“Help us. Help us. You’re our only hope.” Someone else called, and he finally turned, tears pouring out of his eyes._

_“Shut up!” He screamed, but anything else caught in his throat as the number of corpses hit him. Hundreds, milling around, surrounding him, reaching for him with bloodied hands. Gunshots, slit necks, guts hanging out. So much gore and blood and it made a scream bubble up in his throat. “Help!” He screamed again._

_“Dad please help me!” He cried, turning and punching at the wall, scratching as his fingers were scratched raw and bloody. But no one came. His father had left him there, left him with the dead who were pressing against his back. He was alone._

_“Klaus!” they screamed behind him, voices overlapping until they were so loud. Then they started screaming, raw and desperate and animalistic._

_“Klaus!”_

_“Klaus!”_

_“KLAUS!”_

_“KLAUS!"_

“She stays put.” Luther said, and Diego was turning to leave, turning to abandon Vanya as Allison and Luther had a moment. 

Klaus supposed he was expected to follow. To listen to their leader and go back to his room. To sit there and ignore his sister, his sister who played her violin for him when he was scared. His sister who would sit with him and talk about their futures. His sister who cried and yelled at him when he squished a spider instead of freeing it outside. His sister. 

“No.” He whispered, glaring down Luther, who was looking a tiny bit surprised. 

“Klaus, she stays put.” Luther said, demanding and ordering and sounding oh so much like dad. Locking people up without remorse just like dad. 

_“Help us Klaus, oh god help us Klaus. KLAUS!”_

There was something bubbling up inside his chest, anger, despair, fear, grief. It boiled inside of him, filling him with a pressure that was washing over him, making his heart stutter and pump faster. The room shook slightly, a blue hue filling the air around him. 

He remembered screaming. Begging for someone to help him. To get him out of that place and hold him, comfort him, tell him that it was going to be okay. He remembered the fear he felt locked in there, saw it reflected in Vanya’s face. 

“No.” He said again, and this time when he looked at Luther he saw what almost looked like fear in his eyes. He saw the way Luther pushed Allison behind him, like Klaus was a threat. But he also felt the pure power strum through his veins, the tips of his fingertips stain blue as the pressure inside grew and grew. “Move.” He ordered. 

“Klaus, I need you to calm down.” Diego was saying, walking back into the room, his hands out like Klaus was a scared animal, and maybe he was. Maybe he was just a rabid dog ready to lash out at any moment. But he was also pissed. 

“Move.’ He repeated, glaring Luther down. 

“I can’t let you free her Klaus.” Luther said softly, his eyes flickering between Klaus and Diego, who was probably planning on knocking Klaus out at any moment of time. 

“Move!” He screamed, the pressure bursting out with an audible pop and flew through the room, knocking Luther, Diego and Allison against the wall, pinning them there with a flash of blue withering light. 

He hadn’t meant to do that. Didn’t know what was happening or why, but all he cared about was Vanya staring at him through the window, and the clear path to the door. 

He walked steadily towards it, the shakes and tremors in his hand lessoning for the first time since he became sober. He grabbed the wheel, pulling and pulling to no avail. It wouldn’t budge, his weak arms not enough to get it to move. His siblings were calling out to him, trying to get his distraction so he could free them from whatever was holding them back. He didn’t feel like answering. 

He felt ice cold, all the heat inside of him draining out with every pulse of power shuddering through him and into the room. It made his fingers lose their color, turning stark white and his cheeks to lose the blood pooling into them. The ache in his chest cooled and slowly he felt his heart beat slow until it barely pumped the blood, his limbs feeling loose as if he had no control of them. 

Still he managed to move, flouting in the haze of blue that surrounded him. He could still feel the emotions running through him, strengthening the blue light that was forming around his hands and arms.

“Help me.” He ordered, turning to when Ben stood shocked by where Diego was pinned to the wall. 

“I can’t help you when your pinning me to the wall.” Diego snapped, and Klaus briefly looked up at him, but he wasn’t important right now. Who knows what would happen if he let him down. 

“I’m not talking to you.” He snapped. “Help me.” 

“Your worrying me Klaus, how about you let me down and we can just talk about this?” Diego said, in the soft way he talked to victims. Klaus hissed at him. 

Finally, Ben spoke up.

“I can’t grab it Klaus, even so I don’t know if we’ll be strong enough to get it to move. Even Luther had some issues with opening it.” Ben said softly, looking slightly scared. 

Klaus nodded, “Then we bring in more help.” He said calmly. 

He had never felt like this before, so in control of his body, of the power vibrating in his bones. He felt like nothing before, like no one could stop him. He extended this newfound power, letting it spread outside of the room, an invisible force sweeping out and slowly pulling ghosts towards him. Hundreds of them flooded the room, staring at him. 

They were the enemy, the very thing that had terrified him. But at this moment they all looked at him with indifference, obedience. An army for his to order, and Klaus knew that they would listen to whatever he said. 

“Help me.” He repeated, and he heard Diego start talking again, but he ignored it. He dove deep inside himself again, feeling out the well of substance inside of him. The withering monster that was fighting to get out. And he let it, sending another wave of blue flood the room. Except this time wherever it went corpses became visible, a blue hue flooding their skin and Klaus watched as his siblings stared in disbelief. 

He turned back to the door, and the various dead walked forwards, grabbing the wheel and helping him pull it. 

He let his siblings down, subconsciously keeping them back by ordered some corpses to stand in their way, their reaching hands keeping his worried and fearful siblings away from where he was. 

Klaus heard the dead still talking to him, screaming and shouting in the frenzy they always did, but this time he wasn’t afraid. Because they were his to order, his to command and manipulate. 

Slowly the wheel turned, and the pressure inside of him was eased with every second he made all the ghosts corporal, an ache settling in his bones that felt like the best high and the worst comedown combined. 

The door popped open and Vanya was flying out, crashing into Klaus arms and sobbing and instantly he just stopped. 

The blue settled, the ghosts fading from sight and disappearing out the door as quickly as they were summoned, the shaking of the room and the blue tint to his skin fading. He focused on Vanya in his arms, sobbing and shaking and thanking him over and over again. Mumbled sorry’s lost in his shoulder. He comforted her, rubbing her shoulders and clutching her tightly. 

He felt the heat slowly return to his chilled skin, felt the life slowly enter him because that’s what happened isn’t it? He had always straddled to line between life and death, and this was the final straw. The final moment when he let himself break the wall between the two, smashed it down and stood in the middle, controlling both at once. 

Vanya let out another sob and Klaus held her tighter, stroking her hair. “It’s going to be okay Vanya. You’re never going back in there. I promise you that.” He said, speaking everything he ever wished someone would say to him. Vanya let out a particularly loud sob and suddenly Allison was running over, kneeling beside them and taking Vanya into her own arms. 

Vanya started crying harder, whimpering Allison’s name over and over again. Klaus leaned back, letting the two of them have their moment. His head felt light, like there was cotton inside of it, similar to how it felt when he came back from the past. He felt his mind struggling to stay in the present, wanting to drift somewhere far away and leave his body behind. 

He struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. He leaned away from it, testing his legs which felt like jelly now that the high he was riding on dissipated. He stumbled when he attempted to take a step, falling to his knees as no one went to help him. 

Diego and Luther were still staring at him in disbelief, the faintest wisps of fear and intimidation stuck in the contours of their faces. Ben was beside him though, looking worried enough for all of them. 

“I’m fine.” He slurred softly, fighting to his feet again, this time he managed to stay up, walking out the door and into the house. 

No one bothered to stop him. 

He collapsed into his room, his legs shaking and feeling like he was going to throw up. 

The fear had properly settled in, the confusion to what he could now do and if he wanted this. Had Reginald known about whatever this was? Known that his powers went far beyond just seeing and talking to ghosts?

What else could he do? Could he raise the dead? He gazed at Ben, wondering how awesome it would be if he could have his brother once again. 

Klaus leaned against the wall, trying not to fall asleep in case any of his siblings came to his room. He wouldn’t want Luther to lock him up now would he?

But his eyes slipped closed, the waves of unconsciousness washing over him. 

________________________

“I’m sorry, you did _what?_ ” Five asked Luther, putting his head in his hands and taking a deep breath. He leaves for literally a few hours and suddenly learns that in his absence his brother thought it was a wise idea to lock up his traumatized sister? “And also, Klaus did _what?_ ”

Because that was a shock too. Learning that Vanya had some sort of power was surprising, but in a way that he was always kind of expecting. It was unlikely that she was just normal, it was a matter of time before this came to light. But Klaus suddenly using telekinesis powers and making tons of ghost corporal like it was nothing? Now that wasn’t something Five could have predicted. 

Hell, he didn’t even think his brother had it in himself to get sober. 

“I don’t even know at this point.” Luther sighed, leaning back and glancing at Diego, who stood by the wall brooding as usual. 

“He’s been suppressing his powers since he was 13 and discovered the magic of cocaine.” Diego scoffed. “Who knows what he can do.” 

“Dad must have known something right? He kept books on us all, maybe there’s something in there?” Luther asked, and Five turned it over in his head. It would be worth it to check it out, the apocalypse was suppose to be today, but since they were all standing and fine now Five assumed that maybe it really was over. 

He tried to ignore the relief that gave him, tried to push Klaus earlier taunting words away. He wasn’t an addict. He wasn’t obsessed. 

“It’s worth a shot.” He admitted. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.” 

“Klaus has always been a wildcard,” Diego said softly. “But I’ve never seen him look like that. I’ve never been afraid of him.”

Five didn’t bother responding as he left the room. 

______________________________________________

 

“Get up.” Five said, blowing the door open to Klaus room and startling the man from his sleep. 

Klaus blinked, glaring his brother down and yawning. He watched as Five blew in like a hurricane and threw an expensive looking journal on his bed. Klaus looked down on it for a moment before getting bored. He wondered why Five would suddenly burst into his room. 

“Is Vanya okay?” He asked, a kernel of fear implanting in his brain. He never should have left her alone. 

“She’s fine.” Five responded.

“Well then, brother of mine, what is it you require?” He asked, pulling his blanket up tighter. He was still so cold. 

“An explanation.” Five said, arms crossed. 

“Well, you’re the smart one not me.” Klaus shot back, reaching out and grabbing the book, flipping through the pages too fast to actually read any. It looked like one of his fathers. How boring. 

“He locked you in a mausoleum?” Five asked bluntly, and Klaus paused, his hands shaking slightly. He pushed back the memories, the pressure building up as the fear struck him at the words. But he focused on Five, who was glaring him down. 

“What’s it to you?” He asked, taking a better look at the book. 

And Jesus Christ it was about him. He saw him number repeated again and his father rambling on and on about their training. He felt the bile raise in his throat and he tossed the book down like it burned him. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Five asked. 

“I told someone,” He defended. “I told Ben.” 

“I learned after you started screaming about it and I forced you to tell me.” Ben said dryly and Klaus shot a glare at him. 

“After he died?” Five pressed, and Klaus refused to answer. 

“It was a ploy you know.” Five continued, and Klaus very much wanted to go back to bed. Or get a drink, or some pills, whatever he could find first. “He did it to make you scared.”

“He told me it was to help me get over my fears.” Klaus said softly, trying to push back the memories always pushing at his skin. 

“He lied.” Five said, picking up the book and flipping to a random page. “Number Four's powers are too dangerous to let go unchecked. It seems like fear is a useful way of suppressing them. I will continue to keep locking him up as punishment until the issue is no longer of importance.” Five read out loud, and Klaus just wanted him to stop. 

“What do you want from me?” He demanded, pushing the words out of his mind. His dad was a sick bastard, but there was no way he would do that. Stoop that low. 

Oh who was he kidding, it lined up perfectly. 

“Train with me and Vanya.” Five offered. “You obviously have a lot more power than anyone thought, train with me and Vanya and we can all learn how to control it.” 

Klaus debated it. He wouldn’t lie, he was pretty terrified after his show last night. He wasn’t sure what was lurking under his skin, what else he could do with what he now realized he had. 

“We’ll see.” He said with a shrug, lying down and placing a hand over his eyes. 

He heard Five leave a few seconds later, the click of the door the only sound. 

Klaus would take up his offer eventually, he just needed some time to sort himself out. Sleep a little and think about his broken family. Maybe they could repair this, maybe they could fix the walls and ties they had broken. It would take a lot of work, but then again families weren’t supposed to be easy.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and tell me if you guys enjoyed this!!


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